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    The Little Book of Life's Wisdom

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      from the viewpoints of many different people

      who knew him, some mentioned in the Bible,

      others not (like an old shepherd, an astrologer,

      and a neighbor and friend of Mary). Hearing

      their multiple (and sometimes conflicting) stories

      shows us that, for Gibran, Jesus was not a figure

      that could be encapsulated in any one creed or

      contained within the walls of any one church.

      As Gibran writes in one of the selections con-

      tained in this book:

      Once every hundred years Jesus of Nazareth

      meets Jesus of the Christian

      in a garden among the hills of Lebanon.

      I N T R O D U C T I O N

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      And they talk long.

      And each time Jesus of Nazareth goes away

      saying to Jesus of the Christian,

      “My friend, I fear we shall never, never agree.”

      Second, as Dr. Phares writes above, the

      Maronites, and Gibran in particular, were strong

      believers in the self-determination of the Syrian

      people. The word Syrian here was used in a cul-

      tural sense, since the boundaries of the state of

      Syria were not set until after the First World War.

      Gibran worked for various “Syrian” causes before

      the end of war, which he saw as an opportunity

      for his people to free themselves from a cor-

      rupt Ottoman empire. Like many of his contem-

      poraries, he felt betrayed by the Sykes-Picott

      Agreement in which the victorious Western pow-

      ers essentially divided the post-Ottoman Middle

      East into nation states for their own influence

      and convenience. We are still living with the con-

      sequences of this a hundred years later.

      Gibran’s deep love for his native country, his

      belief in the essential goodness of its people, his

      connection to its land and nature shine through

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      many of these selections. In one originally

      entitled “To Young Americans of Syrian Origin,”

      published in 1926, Gibran writes:

      “I believe that you can say to Emerson and

      Whitman and James, ‘In my veins runs the blood

      of the poets and wise men of old, and it is my

      desire to come to you and receive, but I shall not

      come with empty hands.’”

      On the actual editing: it is clear that Gibran

      was helped with his grammar and punctuation

      by various people, particularly his longtime

      muse Mary Haskell. As the way we read has

      changed over the past hundred years, so has

      grammar, so I have re-punctuated or re-lined

      many selections in order to bring out the rhythm

      of Gibran’s voice for the modern reader.

      As far as Gibran’s use of gender-inclusive

      or -exclusive terms goes, I have mostly taken a

      hands-off approach. Gibran often refers to God

      as “he,” but he also refers to Life as “she” and

      makes frequent references to “goddesses.” The

      one exception to this policy is that I have sub-

      stituted “humanity” for “mankind.” It does not

      disturb the rhythm of Gibran’s voice, is more

      I N T R O D U C T I O N

      xix

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      faithful to the underlying (and gender neutral)

      Arabic word he was thinking of, and is a more

      accurate way of including us all.

      In selecting the material for this book, I

      have placed well-known sayings of Gibran next

      to lesser known ones, organized by the vari-

      ous views of “life” that he expressed. Some of

      Gibran’s sayings are comforting and easy to

      understand, some puzzling, some disturbing.

      Like many Middle Eastern mystics, he seems to

      have felt that periods of being puzzled or dis-

      turbed were as important as those of comfort

      to help bring balance and healing to his own

      somewhat chaotic personal life, as well as to the

      lives of his readers. Perhaps this willingness to

      embrace all of life has something to do with his

      enduring appeal for us.

      —Neil Douglas-Klotz

      Fife, Scotland

      June 2017

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      1

      Listening to

      Nature’s Life

      Taking time to listen to the natural

      world reveals a new dimension of being

      human. It is as if all of nature were

      already within us, reminding us of our

      connection to the one life we share.

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      THE LAW OF NATURE

      Before the throne of freedom, the trees rejoice

      with the frolicsome breeze and enjoy the rays of

      the sun and the beams of the moon.

      Through the ears of freedom the birds whis-

      per, and around freedom they flutter to the

      music of the brooks.

      Throughout the sky of freedom the flowers

      breathe their fragrance, and before freedom’s

      eyes they smile when day comes.

      Everything lives on earth according to the

      law of nature, and from that law emerges the

      glory and joy of liberty.

      Yet humanity denied itself this fortune,

      because it set for the God -given soul a limited

      and earthly law of its own.

      It made for itself strict rules and built a nar-

      row and painful prison in which it secluded

      humanity’s affections and desires. It dug out a

      deep grave in which it buried humanity’s heart

      and purpose.

      If individuals, through the dictates of their

      souls, declare their withdrawal from society and

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      violate the law, their fellows will say they are

      rebels worthy of exile or infamous creatures

      worthy only of execution.

      Will people remain slaves of self-confinement

      until the end of the world?

      Or will they be freed by the passing of time

      and live in the spirit and for the spirit?

      Will they insist upon staring downward and

      backward at the earth?

      Or will they turn their eyes toward the sun

      so they will not see the shadow of their bodies

      amongst the skulls and thorns?

      L I S T E N I N G T O N AT U R E ’ S L I F E

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      SAID A BLADE OF GRASS

      Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf:

      “You make such a noise falling! You scatter

      all my winter dreams.”

      Said the leaf indignant:

      “Low born and low-dwelling! Song-less, pee-

      vish thing! You live not in the upper air a
    nd you

      cannot tell the sound of singing.”

      Then the autumn leaf lay down upon the

      earth and slept.

      And when spring came she waked again—

      and she was a blade of grass.

      And when it was autumn and her winter

      sleep was upon her, and above her through all

      the air the leaves were falling, she muttered

      to herself:

      “O, these autumn leaves! They make such

      noise! They scatter all my winter dreams.”

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      THREE DOGS

      Three dogs were basking in the sun and con-

      versing.

      The first dog said dreamily, “It is indeed

      wondrous to be living in this day of dogdom.

      Consider the ease with which we travel under

      the sea, upon the earth, and even in the sky.

      And meditate for a moment upon the inventions

      brought forth for the comfort of dogs, even for

      our eyes and ears and noses.”

      And the second dog spoke and he said,

      “We are more heedful of the arts. We bark at

      the moon more rhythmically than did our fore-

      fathers. And when we gaze at ourselves in the

      water, we see that our features are clearer than

      the features of yesterday.”

      Then the third dog spoke and said, “But

      what interests me most and beguiles my mind

      is the tranquil understanding existing between

      dogdoms.”

      At that very moment they looked, and lo, the

      dog catcher was approaching.

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      The three dogs sprang up and scampered

      down the street.

      And as they ran the third dog said, “For God’s

      sake, run for your lives! Civilization is after us!”

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      SHADOWS

      A fox looked at his shadow at sunrise and said,

      “I will have a camel for lunch today.”

      And all morning he went about looking

      for camels.

      But at noon he saw his shadow again—and

      he said,

      “A mouse will do.”

      L I S T E N I N G T O N AT U R E ’ S L I F E

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      SONG OF THE RAIN

      I am dotted silver threads,

      dropped from heaven by the gods.

      Nature then takes me to adorn her fields and

      valleys.

      I am beautiful pearls,

      plucked from the crown of Ishtar

      by the daughter of dawn to embellish the

      gardens.

      When I cry, the hills laugh.

      When I humble myself, the flowers rejoice.

      When I bow, all things are elated.

      The field and the cloud are lovers,

      and between them I am a messenger of mercy.

      I quench the thirst of one,

      I cure the ailment of the other.

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      The voice of thunder declares my arrival.

      The rainbow announces my departure.

      I am like earthly life,

      which begins at the feet of the mad elements

      and ends under the upraised wings of death.

      I emerge from the heart of the sea

      and soar with the breeze.

      When I see a field in need,

      I descend and embrace

      the flowers and the trees

      in a million little ways.

      I touch gently at the windows

      with my soft fingers,

      and my announcement is a welcome song.

      All can hear,

      but only the sensitive can understand.

      L I S T E N I N G T O N AT U R E ’ S L I F E

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      The heat in the air gives birth to me,

      but in turn I kill it,

      as woman overcomes man

      with the strength she takes from him.

      I am the sigh of the sea,

      the laughter of the field,

      the tears of heaven.

      So with love—

      sighs from the deep sea of affection,

      laughter from the colorful field of the spirit,

      tears from the endless heaven of memories.

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      A HYENA AND A CROCODILE

      Upon the bank of the Nile at eventide, a hyena

      met a crocodile, and they stopped and greeted

      one another.

      The hyena spoke and said, “How goes the

      day with you, sir?”

      And the crocodile answered, saying, “It goes

      badly with me. Sometimes in my pain and sor-

      row I weep, and then the creatures always say,

      ‘They are but crocodile tears.’ And this wounds

      me beyond all telling.”

      Then the hyena said, “You speak of your

      pain and your sorrow, but think of me also, for

      a moment. I gaze at the beauty of the world, its

      wonders and its miracles, and out of sheer joy

      I laugh even as the day laughs. And then the

      people of the jungle say, ‘It is but the laughter

      of a hyena.’”

      L I S T E N I N G T O N AT U R E ’ S L I F E

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      TWO OYSTERS

      Said one oyster to a neighboring oyster,

      “I have a very great pain within me. It is

      heavy and round and I am in distress.”

      And the other oyster replied with haughty

      complacence,

      “Praise be to the heavens and to the sea, I

      have no pain within me. I am well and whole,

      both within and without.”

      At that moment a crab was passing by

      and heard the two oysters. And he said to the

      one who was well and whole, both within and

      without,

      “Yes, you are well and whole, but the pain

      that your neighbor bears is a pearl of exceeding

      beauty.”

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      TREES ARE POEMS

      Trees are poems

      that the earth writes upon the sky.

      We fell them down and

      turn them into paper

      that we may record our emptiness.

      L I S T E N I N G T O N AT U R E ’ S L I F E

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      THE RED EARTH

      Said a tree to a man,

      “My roots are in the deep red earth, and I

      shall give you of my fruit.”

      And the man said to the tree,

      “How alike we are. My roots are also deep

      in the red earth. And the red earth gives you

    &
    nbsp; power to bestow upon me of your fruit, and the

      red earth teaches me to receive from you with

      thanksgiving.”

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      THE FULL MOON

      The full moon rose in glory upon the town,

      and all the dogs of that town began to bark at

      the moon.

      Only one dog did not bark, and it said to the

      rest in a grave voice, “Awake not stillness from

      her sleep, nor bring you the moon to the earth

      with your barking.”

      Then all the dogs ceased barking, in awful

      silence.

      But the dog who had spoken to them con-

      tinued barking for silence the rest of the night.

      L I S T E N I N G T O N AT U R E ’ S L I F E

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      THE SUPREME ANT

      Three ants met on the nose of a man who was

      asleep in the sun. And after they had saluted

      one another, each according to the custom of its

      tribe, they stood there conversing.

      The first ant said, “These hills and plains are

      the most barren I have known. I have searched

      all day for a grain of some sort, and there is none

      to be found.”

      Said the second ant, “I too have found noth-

      ing, though I have visited every nook and glade.

      This is, I believe, what my people call the soft,

      moving land where nothing grows.”

      Then the third ant raised its head and said,

      “My friends, we are standing now on the nose

      of the Supreme Ant, the mighty and infinite

      Ant, whose body is so great that we cannot see

      it, whose shadow is so vast that we cannot trace

      it, whose voice is so loud that we cannot hear it;

      and He is omnipresent.”

      K A H L I L G I B R A N ’ S L I T T L E B O O K O F L I F E

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      When the third ant spoke thus the other ants

      looked at each other and laughed.

      At that moment the man moved, and in his

      sleep raised his hand and scratched his nose,

      and the three ants were crushed.

      L I S T E N I N G T O N AT U R E ’ S L I F E

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      THE POMEGRANATE

      Once when I was living in the heart of a pome-

     

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